


a volunteer walks into a bar

by luxxurycar



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-26 16:56:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17749835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luxxurycar/pseuds/luxxurycar
Summary: How the bar scene in The Vile Village could (should) have gone.





	a volunteer walks into a bar

Jacques _knows_ , with a clarity he almost certainly shouldn’t have directly after taking a dictionary to the forehead, that this is not a situation that will work out in his favor. Mostly this is because two on one has never been good odds, particularly not when one side of the equation is armed with crowbars and the other is armed with a headache and not much else. But he can tell that Olaf and Esme are armed with something more than that: desperation. For what, he isn’t sure. The fortune? The sugar bowl? He supposes it doesn’t matter in the end; it’s lending them resolve now, as if their other advantages aren’t enough.

He gets to his feet slowly, watching them as they shift into fighting stances. Olaf is gripping his crowbar like a baseball bat. He’s never been very good at sports, Jacques remembers, but he’s pretty sure that isn’t going to matter here. The other reason Jacques knows that this isn’t going to end well is that he’s letting his mind wander. He catches himself thinking about whether Esme knows how to kill a man without ruining her manicure, and has to force himself to focus. They aren’t going to spend much time waiting for an opening, not with those crowbars. He’s surprised they haven’t hit him already, though he suspects that Olaf has never done anything like this before, and Esme isn’t quite willing to strike first. Yet.

It would probably be smarter to back towards the entrance of the bar, but Jacques knows they aren’t stupid enough to let him get far. Instead he backs towards the bar counter itself, because maybe they’ll let him get away with it-out of curiosity, perhaps, because they don’t know what his plan is. He hopes they can’t tell that he doesn’t know either. If there are bottles behind it he can use as weapons, he figures he might have a chance. If not, well, the situation didn’t start out hopeful, but he’s worked his way through worse. At least they’ll have to attack one-on-one in the narrow space behind the bar.

And he can tell Olaf is hesitant. There’s a difference between what he’s already done-poisoning and pushing and persuading-and beating someone to death with a crowbar, even if he now has a partner to help him do it.

“This story doesn’t have to end here,” Jacques says, mostly to fill the silence but also because if he can get Olaf talking then he might have a chance of getting out of this alive. “You don’t have to do this, Olaf.” One more step back towards the bar. Esme tightens her grip on her crowbar, clearly getting tired of waiting to pounce.

“I don’t want to hear it, Snicket,” Olaf snarls in response, advancing on him. Jacques takes a chance and does a half skip back to stay out of his reach, barely. Only a few more steps and he’ll be close enough to the bar to dive behind it and pray that there’s a bottle within reach. Of course, then he’ll have to deal with being trapped behind the bar, but he figures he’ll cross that bridge when-if-he gets to it.

“Hurry up, darling, I don’t want to be here all night,” Esme urges, gesturing towards Jacques impatiently when Olaf looks back at her. Jacques takes one more quick step back towards the bar while they’re communicating with nothing but a quick series of facial expressions. He has to admit that he didn’t believe in true love or soulmates before tonight, but Olaf and Esme seem perfect for each other. He turns his thoughts from that particular subject quickly before he can think about Olivia for too long.

“We’re not going to be here all night,” Olaf responds to Esme finally. He doesn’t even turn before he’s swinging the crowbar. Jacques isn’t sure, afterwards, how he knew the swing was coming, but he dives behind the bar a second before the crowbar slashes through the space he’d been standing in a moment earlier. The blow would have been a hard one; it probably would have broken a few ribs. Not fatal; Olaf was planning to draw this out.

“You’re trapped,” Esme taunts, standing at the end of the counter. Jacques sits up into a crouch quickly. He’s never been so glad to see bottles of sarsaparilla in his life, though he knows he needs to wait for the perfect moment to use them. He and Olivia had had the element of surprise earlier and wasted it, albeit accidentally due to Esme’s unexpected role; he doesn’t plan on making the same mistake twice.

“He is indeed,” Olaf agrees with her a moment later, standing at her shoulder. Jacques tenses. He’s at Esme’s mercy now, since the two of them can’t come around the bar side by side; he has to move quickly. She isn’t going to hesitate the way Olaf has, especially since Olaf already has a swing and a miss under his belt.

Three things happen at once, then, very quickly. Esme rears back to hit him with enough force to either incapacitate or kill him, depending on where the blow lands, Jacques snatches one of the bottles of sarsaparilla off of the shelf closest to him, and an unexpected voice from the entrance of the bar says, “I was hoping to order a root beer float, but I can see from the state of this bar that you’re probably all out.”

Jacques takes the moment of stunned silence that follows to scramble both backwards and to his feet, brandishing his bottle of sarsaparilla as though it could really do anything against two crowbars. Not that it’s necessary at the moment; Olaf grabs Esme’s wrist so tightly that Jacques can see his knuckles turn white, keeping her from swinging her weapon.

“I thought you were dead,” Olaf snarls after another beat of silence, unfortunately regaining his ability to speak. He lets go of Esme’s wrist when she jerks it away from him, but she doesn’t go for Jacques again, settling for giving him a dirty look instead as though he’d planned for his brother to show up in this tavern and save his life.

“I could say the same to you,” Lemony responds mildly, his tone quite frankly much too calm for the current situation. In the next instant he’d flicked his wrist, sending the whip Olivia had fortunately forgotten in the sheriff’s office whistling through the air expertly. Olaf flinches, but the blow wasn’t for him; it curls instead around Esme’s wrist and she drops her crowbar with a strangled cry of pain. Jacques takes the opportunity to leap expertly over the bar, grateful that he’d practiced the move earlier without knowing he’d need it again so soon.

“ _Lemony_ ,” Jacques says, hoping his tone conveys everything he wants to but cannot possibly say right now. “How did you-?”

“You’re not the only one with a valid taxi driver’s license and a concern for two sets of orphans. The previous Madame Lulu wrote to me when she left the carnival,” Lemony answers quickly, yanking the whip back before Esme could grab it and try to use it to pull him closer. “We need to leave,” he adds, brandishing the whip as he takes two steps back towards the entrance. Jacques matches his pace.

“We can’t. The children need us,” he responds. There’s no way he’s going to break his promises to Olivia, though he isn’t sure how he’s going to explain nearly losing his life mere minutes after promising her that he would do no such thing anytime soon.

“I have Jacqueline and Larry on it already,” Lemony responds, still in his usual mild tone. Jacques could have hugged him if they hadn’t been in a life threatening situation where it wasn’t sensible for him to do so. “They’re still working on finding the Quagmires, but the Baudelaires should be in my taxi already.” Neither of them says it, but they both know they’re going to have to leave capturing Olaf and Esme for another time.

“And K-the previous Madame Lulu?” Jacques asks, keeping his gaze on Olaf and Esme as he and Lemony steadily continue backing towards the entrance of the bar.

“Headed towards her destination,” Lemony responds cryptically. Jacques knows this means Kit is on her way to the hospital, probably using his taxi, to acquire the sugar bowl. He nods slightly. They’ll have to rendezvous at the carnival, then, since Olivia doesn’t have a car anymore. He doesn’t say that aloud.

“How did you manage to accomplish all of my goals so quickly?” Jacques asks just before they duck out of the tavern door. There are other questions he wants answered, of course, like _where have you been_ and _why haven’t you written me back in two years,_ but they can wait.

“I figured it would impress you,” Lemony responds with just enough of a wry smile that Jacques can tell he’s teasing despite his deadpan delivery. “And I got tired of life on the lam.” Jacques nods, just barely. Later, he’ll tell Lemony-or attempt to, anyway-how much this means. And how much he’d missed him, maybe. But for now, they have children to keep safe. Everything else can wait.

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is snicketscope if anyone is interested. Feel free to come talk to me about ASoUE!


End file.
